<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>never known a love like this by soulofme</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239905">never known a love like this</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme'>soulofme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn Watching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:00:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you in the mood for?” he asks after forcing his brain back online, like he’s asking what they’re having for dinner. Definitely not like he’s asking Keith to pick out a fucking porno.</p><p>Which is exactly what’s about to go down. Porn. Watching it. With Keith.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>never known a love like this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With his headboard against his back and his laptop balanced on his lap, Shiro feels like he might puke.</p><p>Maybe it’s because Keith’s sitting too damn close to him, close enough that Shiro bets he could smell him. He doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking creep. He might be holding his breath just to make sure he doesn’t, but that’s no one’s business but his own.</p><p>Or hell, maybe it’s because of the empty tab on his screen. The blank Google search box stares at him mockingly, like it knows Shiro doesn’t have the guts to fill it with filth. <em>Coward</em>, he can almost imagine it saying. Shiro knows damn well he is one. Especially now, with Keith literally breathing down the side of his neck.</p><p>Keith shifts, probably because he’s getting impatient with Shiro’s stalling. Shiro sucks in a deep breath, poising his shaking hands over his keyboard.</p><p>“So,” he begins, voice rougher than he expects it to be. He sounds like someone rubbed his throat raw with sandpaper. He’s not quite sure how’d that logically work, but decides it’s a problem for later. Later, as in Keith is out of his room and he can finally breathe again <em>later.</em></p><p>Keith turns to him, an eyebrow raised in expectation. The world around Shiro whites out, and Keith hasn’t even said a <em>word</em>.</p><p>“What are you in the mood for?” he asks after forcing his brain back online, like he’s asking what they’re having for dinner. <em>Definitely</em> not like he’s asking Keith to pick out a fucking porno.</p><p>Which is exactly what’s about to go down. Porn. Watching it. With <em>Keith</em>.</p><p>It’s not the first time, and maybe it won’t even be the last. At first, they’d just kinda rolled with it. Dudes watch porn. Shiro doesn’t know if they always do it together, but every friendship is different. It’s a bonding experience, or something.</p><p>It’s easier than thinking that dudes don’t watch porn together unless it’s got some hidden meaning beneath the exaggerated moaning blaring from the speakers. But if Shiro had to defend himself, he’d say this: he and Keith are best friends. Best friends do weird shit together, like watching porn. It doesn’t <em>mean</em> anything, even if Shiro feels like he should be guilty somehow.</p><p>“Dunno,” Keith shrugs a little and leans back, one arm pillowed behind his head. The other rests in the space between their bodies, the space that Shiro swears used to be larger. “It’s your turn.”</p><p>Oh, right. Last time had been Keith’s. Shiro doesn’t remember what the hell they watched. Just that Keith looked into it, his eyes dark and a little wide, mouth red from the way he’d dug his teeth into his lip. He looked good. Better than any person in the world had a right to.</p><p>“Just put whatever you’re into,” Keith says, shattering his train of thought.</p><p>What’s Shiro’s into. <em>Right</em>.</p><p>He doesn’t really know what he types into the search box. The next webpage has a black background. When Shiro glances at the thumbnails of all the videos, his eyes zero in on swatches of bare, unblemished skin.</p><p>He swears he feels sweat forming along his hairline. Their air con’s out for the third time this summer. Their landlord probably won’t get around to it any time soon, but it’s not like he and Keith spend a lot of time in the apartment. They’re usually at class, or cramming in the library, or eating fattening but cheap food outside. Like most college students do.</p><p>Tonight, they’re watching porn. Shiro purposely doesn’t let himself think about how many college students do <em>that</em> together.</p><p>“No requests?” Shiro asks, a last-ditch effort at preventing the inevitable.</p><p>“Shiro,” Keith says, with a sharp edge. He wrestles the computer out of Shiro’s hands, tapping a finger against the touchpad.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Dark hair, right?” he mutters, eyes glued to the screen.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Your type,” Keith mutters, with an eye roll as if this is somehow painful for him. “Dark hair, kinda pale, pretty much an asshole.”</p><p>“I’m—” Shiro swallows hard. “What?”</p><p>“You have a type,” Keith says simply, shrugging again. “Pretty sure that describes at least half of your ex-boyfriends.”</p><p>“Does not,” Shiro snaps automatically, but the truth is that it <em>does</em>.</p><p>It describes Keith, too, but he’s not touching that with a ten-foot pole. Or anything at all. Not that he’d call Keith an asshole. He’s nothing close to that, at least not towards Shiro. He’s strong-willed, passionate in a way Shiro’s never seen. But above all, absolutely gorgeous. Though, Shiro doesn’t have the guts to say all that.</p><p>Keith gives him an unimpressed look, opening his mouth probably to mouth off all of Shiro’s ex’s from the past two years. Like Shiro needs a <em>reminder</em>.</p><p>To be completely honest, there was a time in his life when Shiro didn’t really have a type. He liked someone because they were compatible, and that was just about the only criteria he had. But then he met Keith freshman year of college, and shit changed. As it inevitably does.</p><p>There’s the sound of Keith clicking on something. Some corny intro music plays, and Shiro tries not to cringe. Keith’s nose scrunches up, but he doesn’t say anything. He sets the computer down between them and leans back against the bed, eyes on the screen.</p><p>Shiro stares down at his feet, at the little hole in his sock, so that he doesn’t look at Keith. He tries not to think about the noises, the wet smacks of kissing. The soft, breathy groans. So, so quiet, like they’re not supposed to be loud, like no one’s supposed to hear but them.</p><p>“You,” Shiro starts, voice cracking on the word, his thought dying off before it’s even fully formed.</p><p>“What?” Keith asks, grabbing a pillow. He stuffs it beneath his chest, laying on his stomach. With his back to Shiro, it’s almost easier to talk to him.</p><p>“You know what I’m into.”</p><p>The words hang between them for one long minute. Keith hums, a soft, noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.</p><p>“It’s not just sex,” he says, like he’s an expert on Shiro and everything that makes him tick. “It means more than that. To you, anyway.”</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>Shiro fixes his eyes on the back of Keith’s head.</p><p>“I don’t know what the hell I like,” Keith says, honest as anything. “I don’t fuck enough to know.”</p><p>“You’ve done it?” He doesn’t know why he sounds so surprised. Keith’s attractive, obviously, and Shiro can a name a few people who’d made it obvious they thought so too. “I thought you didn’t date.”</p><p>“I don’t. It didn’t mean anything, but I don’t know if I wanted it to.”</p><p>Oh, god.</p><p>The thought of Keith having sex with someone makes his skin feel all prickly, like there are a billion ants running across his body. He thunks his head back against the headboard, the pain temporarily distracting him.</p><p>“Not even once?” Shiro doesn’t know why he’s still speaking. Someone should shut him up. Soon.</p><p>“Wasn’t really something I thought was important,” Keith says. The light from Shiro’s laptop reflects off his face, his sharp jaw and proud nose, his full lips and dark eyes, filled with curiosity. Whether that curiosity is towards the porn or Shiro’s line of questioning, he doesn’t know. “I just wanted to get off.”</p><p>“Ah,” Shiro says, feelingly oddly like he’s being strangled. “Gotcha.”</p><p>The people on screen are moving with urgency now. One of them rips his shirt off. The other one, the one with dark hair that looks <em>nothing</em> like Keith but still makes Shiro’s heart race like it <em>is</em> him, touches whatever bare skin is in front of him. They’re not doing much, just exploring each other.</p><p>But somehow, it has Shiro rock-hard in his sweats. He crosses his legs, ashamed of himself even though Keith’s saw him like this a hundred times. Sometimes, they jerk off together like this. But usually, Shiro has his attention on the video. Not on <em>Keith</em>, who’s watching the screen like he’s watching a film, seeming totally unaffected by what’s playing out in front of them.</p><p><em>Fuck it</em>, Shiro thinks, grinding the palm of his heel down onto himself. He might as well get off from this. Something to make him forget how fucking miserable he is.</p><p>He breathes out from his nose, chewing at the inside of his cheek. He feels restless, like this isn’t enough. His eyes dart to the back of Keith’s head before he can stop himself. His next breath is shaky, and he wants to hate himself for sounding so damn worked up.</p><p>Keith cocks his head to the side, listening, and Shiro greedily drinks up the sight of his long, lean neck. His soft, unmarked skin, tanner than usual due to all the time they’ve been spending outside in the sweltering Arizona heat. He looks almost golden, like he’s suddenly become the personification of the sun.</p><p>Shiro’s mouth feels so damn dry, like it’s been stuffed full of cotton. He stops, trembling all over, one hand still pressed down onto his crotch. When Keith turns to look at him for whatever reason, Shiro doesn’t even try to pretend like he’d been watching the porno.</p><p>Something crosses over Keith’s face. Shiro can’t place it, and really doesn’t have the guts to analyze it.</p><p>Keith’s eyes roam over him, making him feel naked even with all of his clothes on. The couple on screen are fucking now, but it’s not doing anything for Shiro. Not like looking at Keith, like this, with nothing said between them, <em>is</em>.</p><p>“Keith?”</p><p>His voice sounds so, so tiny. He’s surprised Keith can even hear him. Even more so when he crawls up to where Shiro is sitting. Shiro rips his hand off his dick, face burning all different shades of red. He chances another look at Keith.</p><p>He reminds himself that this is his best friend, his roommate, and something so much more than that. Something that Shiro’s too damn scared to put a name to. Something that feels so delicate and soft, so very fragile, that he constantly worries about crushing it.</p><p>Something he doesn’t want to have, not if it means losing <em>Keith</em>.</p><p>“You’re hard,” Keith says, just like that.</p><p>Shiro chokes. “It’s…uh, good.”</p><p>Keith barely smiles.</p><p>“You’re not even watching.”</p><p>“I’m not gonna watch with you just staring at me.” Shiro explains, sounding like an excuse even to his own ears.</p><p>“You weren’t watching before, either.”</p><p>“What?” Shiro’s stomach falls down to what feels like the floor.</p><p>“I’m not fucking blind, Shiro.”</p><p>Keith’s not mad, but it makes Shiro flinch anyway. He shifts away as subtly as he can, closing the lid of his laptop gingerly with his foot. He even nudges it away with his toes for good measure. Even so, he still feels dirty.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“So,” Keith drags the word out, mouth a tiny pink circle. Shiro stares down at his hands. “Are you into me?’</p><p>“I—yeah. A little.”</p><p>His words come out jumbled, sounding like a whole other language. If the room had been hot before, it’s sweltering now. He stares at the open window, the hot breeze suffocating him. He’s thinking about throwing himself out of it when Keith laughs softly.</p><p>“A little?”</p><p>“A lot,” Shiro corrects automatically. He presses a hand over his face (not the one he’d been palming himself with, thankfully).</p><p>“Shiro.” Keith gives him time to answer, but Shiro keeps his lips pressed together hard enough to hurt. Eventually, he manages a tiny squeak of acknowledgement. “Why do you think I moved in with you?”</p><p>“Because it’s cheap?” Shiro ventures to offer, hand still pasted to his face. Keith grabs his wrist and pulls it off with a surprising amount of force. “And we’re friends.”</p><p>“Right,” Keith begins. “What else?”</p><p>“There’s <em>more</em>?”</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>Shiro licks his dry lips. “Uh…I don’t know. Really.”</p><p>Keith snickers, dropping down onto the bed. “Maybe I’m a little into you, too.”</p><p>Shiro feels like he’s being mocked somehow, but it doesn’t matter. Not where there’s a bunch of butterflies in his gut, wreaking havoc all up inside of him. Shit. What the hell is this?</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“What, you watch porn with everyone?” There’s a teasing lilt to Keith’s voice, but Shiro can see that the smirk on his face is forced around the edges. Too tight, like he doesn’t want to really hear Shiro’s answer.</p><p>“No.”</p><p><em>Just you</em>.</p><p>He feels like he’s playing fire. Fire that’s already burned him once but keeps him coming back for more. Keith’s eyes go all big for about twenty seconds before he relaxes, managing to look pleased with himself.</p><p>And honest to god, Shiro doesn’t know why he does it. But then he’s got one hand around the curve of Keith’s hip, squeezing hard enough his fingers go numb. And then he’s got the other hand on the side of Keith’s face, thumb against his jaw.</p><p>He kisses Keith and reminds himself to not think about it. Tells himself to pretend it’s just like any other kiss. But it’s not, because it’s Keith. His <em>best friend</em>.</p><p>Shiro doesn’t think he’s been in love before. Maybe close, but nothing like this. Nothing like how he feels about Keith. Everything is different with him. The world doesn’t make sense, and he can’t ever tell what’s up and what’s down, but Shiro <em>likes</em> it that way. Likes the way Keith somehow manages to sweep him off his feet without doing a damn thing.</p><p>He thinks he might pass out, or something equally as embarrassing. He feels numb and oversensitive at the same time, which doesn’t really make sense. But none of this does, if Shiro’s going to be picky about it.</p><p>“You never said anything,” Keith says against his mouth, his voice nothing more than a low rumble that bubbles out of his chest. Shiro swears he can feel the vibrations of his words.</p><p>Shiro pulls away, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. Keith raises a judgmental eyebrow that has Shiro’s ears feeling warmer than usual. But he doesn’t say anything, and Shiro’s never been more grateful for him.</p><p>“What was I supposed to say?” Shiro mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It would’ve been weird either way.”</p><p>“Weird?”</p><p>“We’re best friends,” Shiro says, as if Keith has somehow forgotten then. He smacks his dry lips together and forces himself to string enough words together to express a coherent thought. “That means a lot to me.”</p><p>Keith purses his lips. “So. What now?”</p><p>Shiro doesn’t know why, but the words make him laugh. It’s startled and awkward, and it makes Keith’s eyebrows draw together into a tight, pinched line. But somehow, Shiro feels the tension around them lessen, even if it’s only but a microscopic amount.</p><p>“Did you ever, y’know?”</p><p>“What?” Keith presses, which makes Shiro want to curl up and die.</p><p>“You didn’t suspect anything?”</p><p>“Was I supposed to?” Keith replies. And oh, right. He’d forgotten how sometimes Keith could be so incredibly dense.</p><p>“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe?”</p><p>There’s silence again, the kind that has Shiro regretting every decision that led him to this very point in time. And then Keith shifts forward, hesitant, his knees sliding against Shiro’s sheets. And he’s close, even closer than before. Shiro stares down at his hands, placed neatly over his knees, white around the knuckles when he squeezes down.</p><p>“I wanna do it again.”</p><p>“Watch porn?” Shiro asks automatically, because somehow that’s an easier pill to swallow than the alternative.</p><p>Keith scoffs. “No.”</p><p>He doesn’t move any closer. Shiro’s still staring at his hands, at his long, almost elegant fingers. There’s beauty in every inch of Keith. It’s incredibly unfair for one person to be so genetically blessed, but it’s not like Shiro really has an issue with any of it.</p><p>“Really? Are you sure?” He can’t help but to ask. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing about tonight does.</p><p>That’s when Keith, Shiro’s <em>best fucking friend</em>, kisses him. Firm and sure, like how Keith approaches everything in life. Even when he’s scared shitless, even when he has no idea what’s on the other side, Keith puts his entire being into his every action. He kisses Shiro with the kind of single-handed focus that makes him so damn stubborn sometimes, especially when he zeros in on his goal.</p><p>Right now, Shiro guesses <em>he’s</em> the goal.</p><p>When Keith pulls away, there’s a space between them that Shiro instantly wants to close. He swallows hard, head spinning in a way that makes the world seem like it’s moving too fast for him to keep up with.</p><p>He doesn’t have any words for this, but nothing he says would matter at the moment. Not when Keith’s in front of him, right there, all for him to touch.</p><p>“Okay,” Shiro’s stupid brain makes him say. Keith snorts.</p><p>“That’s it?”</p><p>“My brain’s a little, uh, yeah.”</p><p>“Right,” Keith says, dark eyes seeming too damn bright right about then. “I figured it would mean something with you.”</p><p>Shiro thinks back to their earlier conversation. “Sex?”</p><p>“No,” Keith corrects him, retreating back to the empty side of the bed. He folds his arms behind his head. “More than that. Everything, I guess.”</p><p>Everything.</p><p>The word feels like it’s trying to drown him, pulling him down into something that Shiro can’t name. He doesn’t know what this is, or where exactly he’s supposed to draw the line down in the sand. Hell, maybe there isn’t even a line to cross anymore.</p><p>“That’s…”</p><p>“Dumb?”</p><p>“What? No! <em>No</em>.”</p><p>Keith side-eyes him. “Then <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Keith, I like you.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“No, like a <em>lot</em>.”</p><p>He feels like a goddamn teenager, fumbling over his words like he’s never confessed to someone before. In a way, he hasn’t. Not someone like Keith, no one even <em>close</em> to him. He thinks he might combust, explode right there in their shitty little apartment. A horrible way to go, really.</p><p>“Since when?”</p><p>“Since always.”</p><p>They’re standing on the edge of something now. One itty bitty step forward will send them falling off the cliff and crashing into unknown territory. Shiro figures he should be at least a little scared. But honestly, he’s not. Because it’s Keith, and everything is somehow wonderful and great when it’s <em>Keith</em>.</p><p>“Do you wanna try it?” He doesn’t clarify, not brave enough to say the words. He can only hope the Keith understands.</p><p>“Yeah,” Keith says after a moment that feels like an hour. “I wanna try.”</p><p>
  <em>I wanna try us.</em>
</p><p>A slow, relieved breath leaves Shiro before he can stop himself. He’s smiling, he feels the way it’s splitting his cheeks, and when Keith laughs at him it almost seems <em>fond</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>